


Breaking In

by Filhe



Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-15
Updated: 2016-09-15
Packaged: 2018-08-15 05:54:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,546
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8044882
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Filhe/pseuds/Filhe
Summary: Ulg gra-Burogul tries to break into Aventus Arentino's house. The lock is giving her trouble, but that is not the only issue that pops up.





	Breaking In

**Author's Note:**

> The bear-lock is something I learned when working at a museum this summer. Skyrim isn't Norway, but I'm still using things I learned at the museum to give more flesh to that place.

_Scrit!_

Yet another lockpick. Broken. Ulg looked at it in dismay. "Curse you," she mumbled. She bent down looking at the lock. It was a beautiful one, almost shining at her in the pale winter night. Whoever had made it was an excellent smith.

Nothing seemed to be stuck in there. Her eyes fell down. Two small marks in the snow.  Good.

“Why couldn’t you be a bear-lock,” she told it. Her eyebrows here knit together into a thin angry line.  A lot of Nord farms had those. It was a lock consisting of a wooden bolt which was strong enough to withstand the angriest bear. The key was almost as long as her arms, with two metal teeth.  The houses which operated such locks had a place where you slid it in. Then twist, hook and pull. She would then find herself in already. She had found one in the wizard’s chest, and it worked pretty well whenever she robbed a house.

But this was Windhelm.  Stormcloack capital. A city of constant snowstorms and divisions.

A city who left a scared, desperate little kid alone in a big empty house with no money. How long had he been there now? Was the Arentino boy starving in there? Who knew. The guards were not doing anything, and neither were anyone else.

Ulg sighed, running her fingers through straw-blond hair. Then she dropped them into her pockets. Her fingers were stiff, like twigs. The picks were scratching at them, making her wince in pain.

Finally she could place it in the locks. She stopped, sharpening her pointed ears. There was no light at the corners, no crunch of heavy feet on snow.

She turned her lapis blue eyes at the lock. “Come on, work with me here,” she told it sternly. She knew it wouldn’t respond, but it was better than the silence that engulfed her. Very gently she placed them in. Up, left. Moving slightly. Was it finally going to work? Her fingers were shaking under the strain.

_Scrit!_

“Oh for goodness sake,” she growled. This was going so poorly for her. She bet the lock wasn’t even that hard to pick in the first place. Maybe it was the cold. Her fingers felt like they were on fire, sharp and painful. Maybe it didn’t even matter. She knew the child wasn’t dead, she had seen shadows move in the window. A yellow flick as the night wore on.

She heard a sound.  Her stomach sunk like a stone. Little droplets of sweat were gathering at her forehead. She stopped, her ears sharpened.

  _Crunch, crunch, crunch._

Quickly she scanned her surroundings. At her side there was a pillar. A broad, big one which could stand time itself. Someone had carved little notches, intricate designs. Could she hide behind it again? The guards of Windhelm had passed her twice already. This had to be the third time. Or fifth maybe? Who even knew at this point.

No time!

Ulg  slammed her weight ono the pillars. Her heart hammered in her chest, so hard that she could hardly breathe. The cold air was leaving puffs of smoke. Luckily it was high enough for her to not crouch. She was in luck.

The orange glow shone on the snow. The guard was coming. Her breath nearly halted, yet Ulg stole a glance towards them. 

The guard was dressed in short-sleeved chainmail and blue. Their exposed skin was red. How they could stand dressed in such clothing in the cold, Ulg had no idea. Then again they held a torch in their hand. Maybe that was the reason why?

The guard stopped. Their head turned towards her.

 Molag Bal.

"Orc, come out of there at once." Their voice was sharp like a new blade. It was laced with tired impatience. Their hand went in a fluid motion, pointing right in front of them.

Ulg stepped out of the protective embrace of the pillar. "Good evening guard. What a cold night we are having," she said in as cheerful manner as she could. To empathize her point, she blew hot air through her hands. It stung.

She was quite a bit taller than the guard, who was forced to look up. They had clenched their jaw, and their eyes were slim. In the orange glow of the torchlight, she saw the guard grow pale.

"Orc, what were you doing at the Arentino residence?” The guard asked crossly.

“I saw the light from one of the windows there,” Ulg replied. She pointed a long index finger at it. Even in the flickering snow they could both see a pale yellow light. “I thought I could… -”

 Before she had the time to finish, the guard cut her off. “Are you in the Dark Brotherhood?" Their hand was going down towards their sword.

"No," Ulg cried out in alarm, her arms rose up. “Take your hands off the sword. I am not a part of the Dark Brotherhood!”

"Right, you expect me to believe that, when you are standing outside that house?"

"As I was trying to say, guard, was that I was trying to get his attention." Ulg admitted. “See I…

"So you admit it?” Their eyes slimmed to slits. The sword swung out of their hips. “By Shor, you are going to enjoy our dungeons!"

"Stop interrupting me!" Ulg snapped. "I was trying to bring him food!"

The guard stared at her.  "I... what did you say?"

"I was at the inn,” Ulg explained. She pointed to the side, the general direction of the inn. “I am a bard. I play my flute for bed and board. While taking a break I heard someone say that there was a child inside this house. A little boy called Aventus Arentino. When I pried further I was told he was sent to Riften orphanage. But he ran away back here, trying to contact the Dark Brotherhood! I thought he must be cold, with no money. And if the Dark Brotherhood has heeded the call, then he must be so scared. "

The guard was quiet. Their eyes closed. Then opened. They placed the sword back in the scabbard. Their hand ran up to the helmet, taking it off. It revealed a head full of long brown hair. "You are telling me that you are here because you are concerned?” Their voice raised a notch in disbelief.

"Yes," Ulg nodded vigorously. "So I went to the marketplace to buy food. Apples, leg of goat, cabbage salt, potatoes, a jug of milk, and smoked salmon. Also a few sweet rolls, fresh from the ovens.“ She lowered her hands. “Just ask the woman at the food vendor in the market!

“Ha!” the guard snorted. “Hillevi Cruel-Sea is asleep, like most honorable folk. Besides she has many customers during the day. So she could have easily forgotten you.”

“Guard, please.” Ulg said in as polite way that she could muster. “With all due respect, I am a 6 feet and four inches tall orsimer, with stunning blue eyes and yellow war paint.”  She smirked. “People don’t usually forget me.”

The guard opened their mouth then closed it. They repeated it again, clearly at loss for words.

“But if you don’t believe me, I could show you what is in my backpack,” Ulg offered. “I have nothing in there but food, a flute, and various trinkets from my travels.”

 “Trinkets?” The guard cocked their head to the side. “Why trinkets?”

“Payment for playing their favorite songs,” she replied.  “Not everyone pay bards in coins. Look in it, you can see I’m telling the truth.”

The guard nodded. Ulg swung her backpack around, before lowering it on the cold ground. She knelt down, and pulled at the strap. It came loose. She sent another look up. Ulg’s orbs of lapis towards ice blue.

The guard’s face had no expression. They knelt down too. “Hold this,” they ordered, thrusting the torch towards her. She grabbed a hold of it without a word. It cast a gentle heat on her face. By Malacath, it felt good.

 Arms reached down into her backpack. The first thing that came up from there was sweet rolls. They had been steaming hot, fresh from the oven. The smell had been wafting through her backpack. Now they looked squeezed. And the cloth wrapped around them looked slightly moist. The boy would probably not be so happy with them after all.

Then a brown leg of goat.   Apples came next. Salmon. Salt. A sapphire necklace. It continued until all the food in there was laid on the cold ground. The bear lock key reflected light from the torch onto Ulg.

“So your backpack was full of food.” The guard said. They rose up from the street. Their hand reached out. Ulg handed the torch back to them. She then turned her blue gaze back to the items on the ground.  What would be best to put in first? The leg of goat?  It was the biggest and heaviest. Or maybe the key. She had no use for it tonight.

“You are clearly not carrying arms either,” the guards continued. Ulg’s eyes shot up. She had almost forgotten that they were still there. Their eyes trailed Ulg’s lean body. She shifted uncomfortably under the gaze. Her weapons were back in her room at the inn.

“Let me say I believe you. Why in Talos’ name did you not simply ask a guard to open the door? Our housecarl has an extra set of keys,” the guard said, crossing their arms. “I believe.” They added after a small pause.

“Well…” Ulg began. Then; “half of you believe the place is cursed,” Ulg pointed out. “And don’t dare to approach. If I came to you, would you have let me in?”

Their shoulders dropped. “I suppose not,” the guard replied, looking at their feet.

A pause spread between them, wide as the sea. Neither orc nor nord looked at each other. It stretched on and on, it seemed. Ulg blew her hands one more time. Her teeth clattered towards each other. It had to look comical, she realized. Her tusks dancing like that.

 “It’s so cold,” Ulg finally said. Her voice sliced the silence in two. She was shaking now, her arms rubbing her arms. “How can you stand standing there with short sleeves?”

“It isn’t that cold,” the guard scoffed. “If anything it is a warm night for this season. Besides,” the guard leant forward. Their eyes darted between the houses. Then they lowered their voice. “I have a torch,” they smirked.

“Oh,” was the only reply Ulg could come with. She could think of nothing else to say.   

“Okay, I believe you,” the guard said. Ulg’s shoulders dropped in relief. “I believe what you did as just a sign of compassion. However,” they added, fixing Ulg a cold look. .

Ulg got a feeling she wouldn’t like whatever the guard was about to say.

“Let me ask you this,” the guard sighed. Their mouth was going to the side, before going back. “Why do you care about this brat,” the guard began. “And not the other child? The girl on the street, selling flowers?”

Ulg blinked.

“What girl,” she asked the guard, her voice raised in alarm.

“Sofie. Daughter of Lars the Ice-Fanged.” The guard replied briskly. “I fought with him in a raid. He died, and ever since, that girl has been on the street, selling flowers.”

“Oh that poor thing!” Ulg exclaimed.

“This brat was sent to the orphanage in Riften. He had bed and board there, and food. But he came back. Apparently a roof and three meals were not enough for him. Typical imperial brat,” the guard shook their head. “A proper nord child would have just bent their heads, obedient. Willing to wait it out or work like Sofie.”

Ulg eyes were wide at this. The guard was throwing their arms around, flailing.

“But no! Imperial child comes back and tries to doom us all by contacting the brotherhood.”

 “With all due respect, why don’t you care about that child, guard?” Ulg bit through her clenched teeth. Her eyes slimmed as she scowled.

A flash was in the guard's eyes. “I’m sorry, what did you say?”

“You are asking me why I care about this child and not the other." Ulg said, as she rose to her feet.  She felt her cheeks burn in anger. It didn’t show through her grey skin. The guard stepped back, and she fought the urge to smirk. Instead Ulg crossed her arms. "And you said you even fought with their father. You know this child in on the street, selling flowers."

The guard nodded. Their eyebrows were knit into angry lines across their face.

"So why haven't you done anything?” Ulg asked pointedly.  “Why are you so concerned with what I am doing for one child, when you yourself are perfectly content to ignore two children. Yes, two!” Ulg added crossly. “And one of the children you even know."

"Now wait just a minute!" The guard started, but Ulg interrupted them.

"You knew this La… La-sh-eh,” her tongue twisted on the name. Some of the Nord names were difficult to pronounce. “You know that his child is sleeping on the streets of this city." She threw out her arms in a long movement. "This ugly city, the proud capital of the Nords. Do you know what I see? A city who is perfectly content to leaving the children of your fellow men to starve! Not caring whether rich or poor, dark elf or human."

"At least she is working for it, and not begging in the streets," the guard snarled. "A good working Nord heart like hers, it builds character.”

Ulg’s eyes narrowed. She opened her mouth to reply. Before she could, she was interrupted.

“You know what, we’re dropping this,” the guard huffed. “I’m letting you continue to go on that senseless quest to feed that brat before he starves. Do what you want, Orc. It’s not my business what you do with your free time."

Ulg’s face twisted into a stiff smile. “Thank you, guard,” she said. She bowed her head in gratitude.

“I will not help you get in, but I will tell the others what you are doing,” the guard continued. They turned around. “Enjoy your stay in the city, orc,” the guard flung over their shoulder, before they walked away.

Ulg shook her head of straw blonde hair. “Darn humans,” she muttered. “Always being so weird and difficult.” Thoughts of warm mountains popped into her mind’s eye, littered with olive trees and the smell of herbs and goat dung. The thought stung. She missed Hammerfell.  

Trying to clear her head turned her gaze back to her things, still scattered on the ground. Most of it would be cold now. Oh well. With a sigh she leaned down to pick them up.

It took her ten minutes to pack everything. She swung it on her back. Despite the chilly wind and the conversation with the guard, at least now she didn’t have to hide from them as they walked past. Her fingers trailed her pockets, and two lockpicks slid into the lock.

_Scrit!_

“Malacath curse you!”


End file.
